The Second Man (20 page)

Max put his arms up. “I’m not armed.”

Jill stared at Max.
Where’s his gun?

The cops cuffed him and took all the items out of his pockets.

“Where are you taking him?” Jill asked.

“Santa Barbara precinct. Downtown,” Glass said curtly.

The female cop who had gone through Max’s pockets handed her supervisor the contents. He shook out an evidence bag and transferred Max’s wallet, cell phone, cash, and a few American coins into it.

And a necklace.

“Who does this belong to?” The officer held up the gold chain, with a dangling oval locket. The locket appeared broken, for it gaped open.

“I have no idea who it belongs to,” Max said, “or where it came from. I didn’t put it in my pocket.”

Jill squinted at the shiny piece of gold. She knew who it belonged to. It was her mother’s locket. She gasped.

“Miss Farrell, do you know who this necklace belongs to?” The cop asked.

She looked into Max’s face, but found no answers there. “Yes,” she said. “It’s my mother’s. It’s been missing for a couple of days.”

“That’s him. That’s him,” a woman shouted from the doorway. “He’s the one I saw leading Mrs. Farrell around the back of the building. I saw him! I remember him! He’s a cutie, but he ain’t fooling me.”

Everyone turned to find the nursing home director with her arm around Mrs. Jeeks, the resident who Max and Jill had almost allowed to escape from Friend’s House a few days ago.

“This is the man you saw with Mrs. Farrell?” Policeman Glass asked.

“Yes. Do you have my dog?” Mrs. Jeeks demanded, pointing directly at Max.

A nurse rushed up behind Karen. “Karen, we found Mrs. Farrell! She’s out in front with the paramedics. I think she’s okay.”

“Did you do this? Did you take my mother, Max?” Jill couldn’t believe she was asking this.

Max’s face was blank, his eyes unreadable.

“Tell me!” she screamed.

“Jill, you’ve got to trust me.”

“Never. Never again dare to ask me that.” She turned and ran out of the room, brushing past the crowd of people, her heart feeling as if would burst.

Chapter 19

“The police aren’t sure how Mom ended up in the shed.” Jill wearily rested her elbows on the table. The clock showed it was after eight p.m., but bright sunlight still streamed through her kitchen window. “Of course she’s no help, and can’t remember anything. She may have found the door open and locked herself in by accident. There was a latch inside.”

“What I don’t understand is why the cops didn’t check there sooner last night.” Carly picked up the mug of tea and shook her head. The friends sat in the kitchen together, both exhausted. “The building is on the other side of the nursing home parking lot.”

“They claim they didn’t see her because she was hiding in the corner.” Despite the warm temperature, Jill shivered with fatigue. “She does that all the time, hides. It’s part of her disease. She doesn’t recognize where she is, so she panics. I’m thankful she didn’t break her hip. That’s what I thought had happened when I saw her.”

Carly reached over and covered Jill’s hand with her own. “I’m so sorry about all this.” She nodded toward the hallway. “Is she asleep?”

Dorothy had spent several hours in the hospital for observation after she was found, but instead of allowing them to discharge her back to the nursing home this afternoon, Jill insisted on bringing her home for a couple of days.

“Yes, she’s out cold. I didn’t even give her the sedative the doctor sent. I fixed her some soup, which she inhaled, and then she was asleep by six-thirty.” Tears welled in Jill’s eyes. “I don’t know if I can ever think of sending her back to Friend’s House. I may have to take a leave from my job and care for her here.”

“Oh, Jill, you know she wouldn’t want that. And you can’t care for her alone. Look how many times she got out the door in the last year when you tried that.” Carly squeezed Jill’s hand harder. “Its fine for a couple of days while they repair the damage to her room, but you put a lot of effort into researching Friend’s House. You said yourself it was a great place for her. You can’t blame them for what happened last night.”

Jill met Carly’s eyes. “What did happen last night? Do you think Max had anything to do with my mother?”

Carly cleared her throat. “Do you?”

“No, I don’t believe that.” Jill frowned at her untouched tea. “I think poor Mrs. Jeeks remembered seeing Max with Mom when we came to visit a couple of days ago, and that’s why she said what she did to the cops.”

“That’s a possible explanation.”

“What other one makes any sense? And anyway, he was with us at the reunion dinner.”

“He was, but he showed up late.” Carly leaned toward her. “And no one knows exactly when your mother went missing, right?”

“Right. But . . .”

“And what about her locket?” Carly pressed. “The cops found it in Max’s suit pocket. You said someone ripped it off your mother’s neck a couple of days ago. What was he doing with it?”

“I don’t know. He told the cops he didn’t put it there.” Jill wondered where it was now, again thinking of the locks of hair. “I still think Andrew might be behind this. Max isn’t the kind of man who would hurt an ill woman. And while he obviously has a secret life because of his work with the Swedish government, I don’t think he lied to me about, well, about everything. Do you?”

“I don’t know what to think, Jill. If you had asked me at dinner last night if I thought he was falling in love with you for the second time in your lives, I would have said yes. If he isn’t, then he’s a pathological liar and a very good actor.”

Jill trembled. “And if he’s a liar, then everything he told me about wanting to remember the past, about how he feels for me, well, it was all for some other reason. But what?”

“I don’t know,” Carly said.

Jill’s voice cracked. “I’m telling you honestly, he was sincere in wanting to reconnect and find the past. I would know if it was an act.”

“Would you?” Carly asked softly. “I mean, it’s been fifteen years since you knew him. Memory plays tricks on the best of us. Does Max deserve that kind of faith?”

The women stared at one another.

“I trust my gut that he wasn’t lying about wanting to tell me what happened to him,” Jill said. “Besides, Carly, no one has made any kind of coherent argument as to why Max would do those things.”

“Do you want to hear Andrew’s theory?”

“Andrew’s theory?” Jill pulled away and stared at Carly. “When did you talk to him?”

“I didn’t, but Hamilton did.” Carly flushed, her voice roughing with anger. “When I finally got a hold of Ham on the phone this morning, he told me the whole story of what’s been going on. Evidently Andrew tracked him down in London a few weeks ago. They even met for drinks! Evidently Andrew urged Hamilton to come to the reunion and report back if he noticed anything suspicious about anyone, especially Max, like Andrew did with you. And he got Ham to agree not to tell me about it.”

“What? Did Andrew tell Hamilton the same story? That he’s working for a government agency?”

“Yes. But unlike with you, Andrew told Ham outright that he had proof Max’s company was a target in the fraud case Ben Pierce was investigating, and that Max was implicated in Ben’s murder.”

“Implicated how?”

“Andrew didn’t tell him. I am so pissed that Ham didn’t tell me about any of this crap before this morning.” Carly crossed her arms and sighed. “He said he couldn’t because he didn’t want me to tip you off about Andrew’s suspicions. He also said the only reason he agreed to come to the reunion was so we could help you because you’re my best friend.”

“That’s pretty great of him,” Jill said.

Carly’s face softened. “It is. He also said he doesn’t trust Andrew. Ham thinks he’s got an ax to grind. That he’s still in love with you.”

“Oh my god, that’s ridiculous.” Jill rested her head in her hands. “I wish Ham had told you the truth from the beginning. You could have warned me Andrew was doing this, or gone to your dad, even.”

“I totally agree. I mean, I didn’t tell Hamilton what Dad has found out, because Dad told us to keep quiet, but Ham should have told me that Andrew contacted him, don’t you think so?”

“Yes. But we sound hypocritical,” Jill said.

“We do, but so be it. I should have trusted my instincts more.”

“How?”

“I should have figured out something was going on with my husband when he announced without warning that we were coming to the States for the reunion. Hamilton has been quizzing me for a couple of weeks about you and Max.”

“What do you mean?” Jill frowned.

“Ham never wants to talk about college at all, in fact he gets impatient if I refer to friends from those days, other than you. But on the flight home from Rome, he was overly inquisitive. Wanted to know who you and Max hung out with and what you did together in college. I told him a bunch of anecdotes, how you fell crazy in love with him almost at first sight, how you two did everything together, that you even used to cut his hair and wore it in a necklace. And that you taught him to drive my dad’s car.” Carly frowned. “I realize now he was asking so he could help Andrew.”

Jill’s heart lurched. “Does Ham think Max is involved in Ben’s death?”

“I asked him that and he was noncommittal. He said Andrew called and asked him the same thing this morning. Andrew also told him about Marissa. Hamilton was shocked she was killed. Evidently my husband does remember some people fondly from college.”

“God. I haven’t even given poor Marissa much thought.” Jill realized the police would surely be calling her at some point about the phone call Marissa made the night before she died.

It felt as if she was radiating anxiety out of her pores. Marissa had mentioned Andrew in that call to her the night she died.
Was Andrew going to be implicated in some way,
too
?

He was dating her.

All roads led back to Andrew, not Max, in the suspicious connections department, Jill thought. She needed to tell all of this to the police.

“Marissa’s poor parents,” Carly murmured. “How will they survive losing two of their children under such tragic circumstances?”

“I don’t know.” Jill sighed. “I saw on the news this morning that the police are looking at images from the security camera in her building.”

“I saw that, too.” Carly stared at Jill. “Is Max still in police custody?”

“As far as I know. He hasn’t been in touch with me.” Jill wrung her hands together. “Your dad called a couple of hours ago and said the Santa Barbara PD is holding him for their own investigation about my mother’s abduction, and that the feds are pressing them to release Max to them. Evidently they searched Max’s hotel room last night and found more evidence tying him to what happened in Paris.”

“Oh my god,” Carly gasped. “What?”

“Your dad didn’t know, but he said things sounded serious. He was also told Max has called his embassy for legal assistance.” Jill glanced again at the wall clock. “Your dad said he would call later and give me any update he had.”

Carly stood up. “I’m glad Dad’s been able to help you with this mess.”

“Me, too,” Jill said. “It’s getting late, Carly. You need to get back to your baby.”

“I know. I’m going to head back to the hotel. I told Gloria to pack up everything so we could take Julia to my Dad’s tomorrow. I think I’m going to send Gloria back to London. I feel like spending time with my Dad and baby girl without anyone else around right now.”

“That sounds like a good idea. But I’m coming over to see you.”

“I didn’t mean you, silly. And thank god my stepmother is out of town. I couldn’t bear that right now.” Carly gave Jill a hug and picked up her purse and keys. “Call me later and let me know what Dad said, okay? Or if you want to talk.”

“I will.” Jill walked Carly to the door and waved goodbye. She locked it and leaned against the smooth wood, closing her eyes for a moment.

What is Max doing right now?

Despite telling Carly she didn’t believe he had lied to her about wanting to reconnect when he came to the States, she had a hundred other worries about what he was involved in.

This man of secrets had too many to keep track of.

She prayed he would clear himself of suspicion soon, and get a chance to explain the things he had promised to before last nights’ event blew-up in all their faces. Jill cringed when she thought of how harsh her last words had been to him, but more than anything she could not let herself be played for a fool.

The truth would come out.
I just hope I’m strong enough to hear it.

Dave Hart knocked on Jill’s door the next morning at ten. The look on his face told her the news was not good.

“Max is going to be charged in the next forty-eight hours for the murder of Marissa Pierce. Despite that, Santa Barbara PD have been told he will probably be returned to France to face charges in Ben’s murder first. There’s quite a fight going on over whose jurisdiction trumps whose.”

Jill collapsed on her sofa. “What evidence do the police have?”

“Max is on the security camera tape at Marissa’s parents’ condo at six p.m. the night she was murdered.” Dave sat across from her, his hands clasped together, his brow furrowed. “The cops have requested hair, blood, and fingerprint samples from Max to match to evidence recovered at the scene.”

“Oh my god. How was Marissa killed?”

“She was shot at close range. In her bedroom. There were signs of a brief struggle, but not of forced entry. The police theory is that she knew and admitted her killer into the house. They have the bullet, so the make of gun used will be identified by the end of the day.”

“Did the police find Max’s? He didn’t have it with him when he was arrested.”

“I don’t know.”

A hollow sound echoed inside Jill’s head and for a moment she thought she might faint. She walked out onto her sunny patio, and glanced at her mother dozing on the lounge chair. “What can I do? Can I go see him?”

“Do you want to?” Dave said, following her outside. “I doubt anyone but his embassy people, or an attorney, will be able to until he’s formally charged.”

Jill winced as the words ‘formally charged’ knifed through her brain. “Yes, of course I want to see him. I’m sure there is an innocent explanation for why Max went to see Marissa. Remember the phone call she made to me about having his college ring? Maybe he went to get it.”

“They also found Ben Pierce’s cell phone in Max’s hotel room.”

Jill opened her mouth and then shut it without uttering a word.

Dave handed her a business card. “No telling what else they found. Detective Steve Martin is handling the investigation. Call him. I spoke with him this morning and told him you had pertinent information.” Dave glanced at Dorothy and sighed. “Anything he asks, you just tell the truth. I know you want to help Max, and that you believe in him, but the only way you can is to stick to the facts.”

“Okay.” Jill squeezed her cold hands together. “When you found out Max was working with that security group in the Swedish government, the . . .” Her mind blanked. “What is it called?”

“The
Nationella Insatsstyrkan
. It’s a paramilitary unit within the Swedish police force. According to my FBI source, their officers carry Sig Sauers, by the way. Is that the kind of gun Max had with him?”

“I have no idea.” She leaned forward. “What is it that group does?”

“They respond to everything from terror threats to financial fraud.”

“If Max was working in some capacity with that organization, that could be why he was meeting with that guy on the Interpol wanted list that Andrew told me about, right?”

Jill saw pity in Dave’s eyes.